The Journey Ch. 06

She had stopped drying, and her eyes bored into mine. I could see on her face she knew what I meant, and wanted me to deny it.

"Jane's my girlfriend. We've been dating for a few--"

"No! Vivian Estrella Esparza, I will not hear this!"

"Abuela, I--"

"You stop this, I will not hear of this... this sin! You talk of sinning! I thought you outgrew these foolish thoughts!"

"Abuela, it's not a sin, I love her! She loves me! We--"

"¡Detén esta charla ahora mismo! ¡No permitiré que mi nieta le falte el respeto a Dios en esta casa!"

"¿Cómo puedo faltarle el respeto a Dios, cuando Dios me hizo así? God made me who I am, Abuela. I'm gay. I'm gay, Abuela!" We were shouting now. "I've always been gay, and if God has anything to do with it, it's because he made me like this!"

The sound of Abuela's hand slapping my cheek echoed around the tiny kitchen.

"You no talk about God like that! Dios no te hizo pecar, ¡estás eligiendo pecar!"

"I didn't choose anything! This is who I am!"

"No... No, I no hear any more of this. You are to stop seeing this... this whore!"

"Don't call her that!"

"No! Enough Vivian! You no see her again. Ever! You no bring her to dinner, you no bring that whore to my home, you no see her again!"

"Abuela, I'm not going to stop seeing her! I told you, I love her!"

"Vivian, I will hear no more of this foolishness. I thought this woman to be nice. Respectable! Clearly, I misjudge. No, you no see her anymore, and you go with me to mass right now, and to confession. You must apologize to Jesús por tu pecado."

"I'm not going to do any such thing."

"Yes, yes we go now. If we go now, Father Danny will have time for your confession before mass."

"Abuela, I am not going to church. I'm not going to stop seeing Jane and I'm not going to keep lying to you and mamá about who I am."

"Yes, you will! You will go with me now and you no see her again. Or else--"

"Or else what?" I snarled.

"Or you get out of my house and no come back!"

"Abuela, I'm not--"

"Yes, you will! Or you go!"

This was exactly like I'd always imagined it. She wouldn't listen. She wasn't going to listen. Was incapable of listening. And I had the choice. I could go with her to church, make a show of giving up my sinful ways, then go back to pretending I was something I'm not. Or I could leave. And maybe never come back. Maybe never see her again.

"Abuela," I said, and I could hear the tremor in my voice. "Are you saying you can't love me because of who I am?"

"Vivian, this is no who you are. You are confused, led astray from Jesús, by this evil woman, this whore."

"I swear to God, Abuela, if you call her a whore again..."

"She is the reason you are acting like this!"

"No, she's not!" I bellowed. "I've always been gay! Christ, Abuela, if you knew how many women I've--"

She ended that sentence by slapping my cheek again.

"Fuck!" I held my hand to my face.

"¡Sal de mi casa!" she yelled at me.

"Fine!" I snatched my jacket from the back of the chair and scooped up my backpack as I headed to the door.

"¡No regreses hasta que decidas dejar de pecar!"

I paused as I opened the door to her apartment. The steady drizzle that had been coming down when I arrived had turned into a downpour.

"¡No vuelvas hasta que hayas denunciado a esa puta a Jesús!" She called at me.

It was the final straw. I didn't turn around, but I glanced over and saw the keys hanging on the hook next to the door.

"It's pouring out there. I'm taking your Beetle, I'll bring it back in the morning." I grabbed the keys and walked out, slamming the door on her sputtering outrage. It was petty as hell. I knew that by taking it, either she'd have to take a cab to church or skip it all-together. Which I couldn't remember her doing in years, barring her being in bed with a near life-threatening illness.

"Fuck you, God. You rain on me after I get thrown out of my Abuela's house because of your bullshit, then you get to be without her in your house for one Sunday," I said to the rain as I got in the beat-up Volkswagen and slammed the door shut.

It was hard to tell which was making it harder to drive, the pouring rain that the wipers were struggling to keep up with, or the tears running down my face.

The fact it never once occurred to me to call Jane in that moment should have told me I was spiraling.

I headed home, but as I got close I remembered that I'd killed off my bottle of tequila Thursday night before bed, the last time I'd been home. Knowing Manny, chances were good there wasn't any beer left in the fridge after this weekend.

I need a fuckin' drink I thought. When I pulled into Smitty's, the parking lot was completely empty. I pulled right up to the door and saw a hand-written sign that they were closed because they'd had a kitchen fire the day before.

"Fuck!" I yelled in frustration, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. Where can I go? I'm not in the mood to get hassled by some dudes by going to a new dive bar.

A thought popped into my head and I put the Beetle in gear.

Two hours later I was sitting in a booth against the back wall of Chasin' Tail, halfway through my fourth Patron Special Reserve, straight up with a lime wedge. This wasn't my favorite place, but I knew I certainly wouldn't get hit on by a dude here, and I was more comfortable telling a woman to buzz off. Or... not comfortable. I was just less likely to do any punching here.

I looked down at my phone on the table in front of me as it lit up with the third text I'd gotten from Jane since I'd left Abuela's.

What am I going to tell her? "Hey babe, my grandmother just threw me out of her house and her life, because I told her I'm a lesbian. Oh, also she thinks you're a whore who's leading me down the path to hell. Still coming to bowling tonight"? That's just what she's going to want to hear from her girlfriend.

"Hey, you! Long time no see!"

I looked up, startled as Mindy, a woman I'd gone home with from this very bar for a one-night stand once upon a time, slid into my booth opposite me and set her martini glass down between us.

"How's it going, Viv?" she said.

I looked around, confused. "Where'd you come from?" I said, dumbly.

"Hanging out with Deborah over there. We're waiting for Dee and Connie to show up. Want to come drink with us?"

"Thanks, but no."

"Uh oh. You look like you've had a rough one." She said, eyeing me sympathetically. "Woman trouble?"

"Something like that. Why are you talking to me anyway? You blew me off after our thing."

She had the good grace to blush. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I was just in a place in my life where I wasn't looking for a relationship. I should have been more up front about it. I'm really sorry."

"It's fine. Worked out for the best, really."

"Glad there's no hard feelings. I've thought about you a lot since then, you know."

"I can't say the same." I lifted my glass to my lips, and caught the look she gave me. "Sorry, no offense, just... things have gone differently for me since we hooked up."

"Oh. Well, okay. Are you sure you don't want to come drink with us? I know you and Connie have become pretty good friends."

"Maybe another time. Tell her I'll come by and say 'hi' before I head out.

"It was nice seeing you again, Viv," Mindy said. Pretty sincerely it seemed.

"You too." I put as much sincerity in my voice as I could, which wasn't much.

As Mindy wandered back towards her table I caught the waitress's eye and held up my now empty glass.

After my sixth drink, I decided I'd probably better go home. I needed to get at least a couple hours sleep before bowling, or I'd struggle to break a hundred in the shape I was in. I still had no idea what I was going to tell Jane. I'd sent her a few non-committal texts to keep her from worrying that I wasn't responding to her. I paid my tab, then made a pit stop in the bathroom.

When I came out of the stall, Mindy was walking in.

"Hey," I said, and stepped to the sink to wash my hands.

"Hey, you," she said. She made no move to pick a stall, approaching me instead.

"What are you doing?"

"I've thought about our night together more times than I can count," she breathed. I could smell the cosmopolitans on her breath. She ran a hand up and down my arm, tracing the vines of my tattoo with her fingertips.

I shook my wet hands into the sink, then grabbed a paper towel as I turned towards her. "Hey listen, I have a--"

And then she was kissing me. I froze, and she took the opportunity to press her body against mine, arms sliding around me.

What the fuck? I thought.

An instant later the bathroom door opened and I heard a voice, echoing my thoughts.

"What the fuck?!" a loud voice echoed my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Connie staring at us. Glowering at us. At me, specifically.

"What the fuck are you two doing?"

"Oh, lighten up, Conn," Mindy said, not releasing me.

"Bitch, I told you she has a serious girlfriend. And Viv, what the fuck are you doing? You gonna cheat on Jane in a bar bathroom now?"

"I... I wasn't..."

Mindy pulled back from me. "You told me you were having woman problems."

"I... not like that, I..."

"Who gives a shit if she is, Mindy? You're gonna just pounce like this? And Viv I really thought better of you. If you're having trouble with Jane I wouldn't expect something like this from you."

"I didn't do shit!" I said.

"Looked like you were doing something," Connie replied.

Fuck this. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Or anyone." I pushed Mindy away from me and shoved past Connie. I staggered a little, chucking my shoulder painfully against the door jamb on the way out.

It was still pouring outside, and I ran through the rain to the Beetle, almost tripping twice.

As I cranked the engine, a sharp rap on my window startled me. Connie was standing next to the car, hunched over, her dreadlocks dripping in the downpour.

"Stop, Viv, you can't drive!"

"I'm done with people telling me what I can and can't do today, Connie!" I yelled back. I didn't roll down the window as I put on my seat belt and shifted into first.

"Viv, you've had too much to drink!" she yelled, making a move to step in front of the car.

Whatever, it's like two miles to my house, I thought as I whipped the wheel to the right, steering around her as she jumped out of the way.

My brain was racing, in time with the little engine as I shifted to second and tore out of the parking lot. What the fuck... what the fuck is my life anymore. My family is going to abandon me because of who God made me. My girlfriend is too good for me. I'm a freakin' slut, I have been most of my life. It's not in the least surprising Mindy would think I'd be down for... Fuck, I'm a fucking train wreck.

I was pounding the heel of my hand on the steering wheel with each thought. I could feel tears running down my cheeks again, mirroring the torrents on the windshield.

Fat a lot of good all that tequila did me. I never should have opened my fucking mouth to Abuela. But... Jane. She deserves more than a girlfriend too cowardly to--

The curve came out of nowhere. I didn't realize how fast I was going, that visibility was as low as it was. I threw the wheel to the left, went into a skid, turned the wheel back over, trying to turn into it.

Time slowed down as the car left the road. The world seemed to pinwheel around me as the Beetle flipped. I saw the tree coming, remorselessly, like a predator.

A bone shattering crunch...

Cracking of branches... The rattling of debris from the tree falling onto the roof...

Silence, broken only by the hissing of steam escaping the punctured radiator, the ticking of the now dead engine.

Diego is gonna be so pissed at me when he's trying to fix this, a corner of my mind said.

Looking down... a thick branch had punched through the window, crushing my upper arm, the end of it plunging into the side of my chest...

Pain...

Jostling... Painful jostling... voices... the sound of power tools... red and blue lights strobing through my eyelids...

Someone peeling open my eyelid... a bright light shining into my eye... a sting in the back of my hand, almost an afterthought compared to the pain.

Voices... telling me it was going to be okay... I was going to be okay...

I'll never be okay.

Darkness.

...

Beeping noises... Pain...

...

Diego's worried voice...

It's okay, Dee. I'm okay...

Am I okay?

Would I ever be okay?

...

Silence...

...

I tried to roll over in bed, only to be jolted awake as pain exploded through my shoulder and chest. I opened my eyes, then immediately regretted it, bright fluorescent overhead lights seeming to stab painfully into my brain. I tried to raise my hands to shield my eyes, and found I couldn't. I looked down at my left arm to find it encased in a gigantic cast from my wrist to my shoulder and strapped into a sling, immobilizing it against my body. I looked to my right and found my right arm looking pretty much untouched, except for the set of handcuffs that attached my wrist to the side-rail of the hospital bed.

Well, fuck.

I looked around. I was in a double occupancy room, but the other bed was empty. There were two buttons attached to cables lying on the bed next to my leg, one of them presumably a call button for the nurse. With the handcuffs on, I couldn't reach either one. My shoulder ached. So did my arm. And it felt like someone had stuck a knife into my side and left it there.

"Hey. Hey! Anyone there?" I called toward the door.

A minute later a nurse came in. She was in her mid-thirties, with olive skin that matched mine. Her name tag said Sarah Vasquez.

"Glad to see you're awake," she said.

"How long have I been here?"

She bustled about the bed, checking monitors. When she lifted my right hand to check my pulse I finally noticed the I.V. line poking into the back of my wrist.

Huh, everything else hurts so much I didn't even notice that.

"You were brought in yesterday. Are you in pain?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere. What's with this?" I asked, rattling the handcuffs.

"You'll need to talk to the police about that. Here," she said, moving the buttons where I could reach them. "This one will call one of us if you need help. This one will give you a shot of pain medicine if you need it. It's got a timer, it won't work for fifteen minutes after each press, so if you think you can just click it over and over to get high, it won't work."

"What? Do you assume everyone who comes in here is a junkie?"

"You wouldn't be the first addict in here because they rolled over their car." She started to leave.

"Wait! Can I call someone?"

"You brother knows you're here. He left us your number. I'll call him and let him know you're awake."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

"You have a catheter in, so you don't need to worry about that."

I shifted in the bed, and was suddenly, acutely, aware that she was telling the truth. She turned to leave again, and again I stopped her.

"Wait, please," I said. I didn't know what to say when she turned to looked at me. "Is... Do you know if anyone else was hurt?"

"No, it was a single car MVA," she said, regarding me.

I could feel the relief flash through me. "Madre de Dios, gracias," I muttered, forgetting for the moment that I'd been pretty pissed at God right before this all happened. I reflexively tried to cross myself, only to be brought up short by the handcuffs. "Thank you," I said, "For taking care of me. And for telling me that."

Her face softened the slightest bit.

"What... what happened to me?" I tried to gesture to my left arm, but the handcuffs stopped me again.

"You had a tree branch break your arm and poke into your chest, collapsing your lung. You also dislocated your shoulder and tore your rotator cuff. You had surgery yesterday to repair your shoulder and your humerus, which was broken into three pieces. You have a steel rod in your arm now. Also, you had a pretty good concussion."

"Great, another one," I said, thinking about the last time I'd been in a hospital after the Metro crash. I looked down at my lap. I could feel tears coming. I have been crying way too much lately. I tried to reach up and wipe them off my cheeks, but was stopped again as the cuffs jerked my wrist to a stop with a metallic clank. "Fuck," I said softly, without much feeling.

"Look, I don't know what happened to you," she said, grabbing a tissue and stepping back to the side of my bed, "and I don't know why I'm telling you this, but the police will be here pretty quick now that you're awake." She held out the tissue in a ball and let me down my head forward and wipe my eyes against it. "The hospital has a legal aid attorney from Lampedo Women's Legal Services on call. If I were you, I wouldn't talk to the cops without seeing a lawyer first."

"That's... thanks, that's a good idea."

"They'll try and talk you out of speaking to him. Just answer everything they say by telling them you want to see the attorney, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

"I can see you're starting to really hurt. Your forehead is breaking out in a sweat. I'll page Lampedo and let them know you want to talk to Marc as soon as he can get here. I think he's in the hospital, actually. Press the button and get some rest. I'll call your brother for you."

"Thanks," I said yet again. That sounded like an even better idea. I pressed the button, the machine next to my bed made a soft click and hum, and I felt a coolness go up my arm. As the world got fuzzy, and the pain faded away, the last thing I thought was, Man, I'm royally fucked. I hope Diego told Jane I'm okay.

I woke up when I heard a voice, "Miss Vivian Esparza?"

I opened my eyes to see two cops standing at the foot of my bed. Both white.

This does not bode well for me, I thought.

"Yeah?" I tried to sit up a little more, which turned out to be impossible given the cuffs and my immobilized arm.

"I'm Sergeant Simmons, this is Officer Fitzpatrick," the bigger one said, flipping open a notebook, "We wanted to talk to you and find out what happened. Can we ask you a few questions?"

I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it, remembering what the nurse had said. I thought back to a video I'd seen on Twitter once, called Shut The Fuck Up Friday. I'd shown it to Jane, thinking it would get a laugh. She'd watched the two scrappy, cigar smoking lawyers go on and on about how anytime you talked to the police, just shut the fuck up and ask for a lawyer.

Jane hadn't laughed. Instead she'd said with deadly seriousness, "That is excellent advice, no matter how you end up talking to law enforcement."

"I want to talk to a lawyer first," I said.

"That's certainly your right, Miss Esparza. If we can clear up a few things before that, this might go easier. Then we can get you your lawyer. Where were you coming from when you had your crash?"

"I was... I was coming from the land of get me my lawyer."

His face darkened. "Miss Esparza, this is going to go a little easier if we can just straighten out a few--"

"Lawyer."

He flipped his notebook closed with a sigh. "Miss Esparza, it doesn't matter if you talk to us or not, we already have a blood alcohol test performed by the hospital. You were at point two-five, which is three times the limit in Virginia. Quite frankly I'm almost impressed that you didn't pass out before you managed to get behind the wheel. Your tolerance aside, we have you dead-to-rights on DWI. If you help us clear up a few things, this will go easier and maybe the D.A. will--"